


Short Affairs

by pfrye23



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: AU, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:00:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28556505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pfrye23/pseuds/pfrye23
Summary: Short stories from "The Short Affairs" challenge on Section VII.  The prompts for each story are two random words and a color.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 38





	1. The New Guys

Small - Tempt - Blue

Napoleon Solo smiled as he entered the UNCLE gym. He waved and greeted Samuel Loa, the Samoan born former U.S. Marine NCO who ran the place. "Hi Sarge, how are things today?"

Sam Loa was a large man, well into his fifties. He had gray tightly curled hair that he maintained in a military cut. He was a no nonsense, by the book sort of man who took no guff from anyone, and he had the muscle to back up any order he gave. "Not bad Napoleon. We have a bunch of recruits just in from Cutter's resort." There was no love lost between Sam Loa and Jules Cutter. Jules being Army and Sam being Marines.

"Yes, I know. I thought I'd sneak down and watch them work out before I introduced myself to them."

"I think your partner is already here working out." Sam replied.

Napoleon knew that Illya didn't care about the new recruits and he never introduced himself to anyone. Illya was Illya, an aloof Russian, only interested in and friendly with the few folks who had managed to get within his shields, penetrate his "do not approach" attitude. Napoleon was one, Mark and April another, and surprisingly Sam was included in the little circle that Illya was comfortable with. Napoleon thought it was Sam's direct manner, it reminded Illya of his former GRU instructors. Illya and Sam seemed to have a good relationship.

Napoleon went into the gym and stood behind some equipment in order to view the new recruits. Five young, fit men were laughing and joking around. All five of them were wearing new identical UNCLE sweats. They were all over six feet tall and had a semi military look about them. Each clean shaven sporting a short neat haircut. Napoleon watched as they halfheartedly threw punches at each other while casting smug looks over at Illya who was at the punching bag working up a sweat.

Illya’s long hair was damp with sweat, his dark gray gym clothes had seen better days and needed washing. He looked incredibly small compared to the new recruits.

“Hey blondie!” The tallest of the recruits yelled.

Illya stopped what he was doing and looked warily over his shoulder at the group of recruits. 

“Hey, we saw you come in wearing a lab coat. Are you a Section Eight lab rat?” the man laughed at his joke “You are about the size of one.” The other men laughed.

Illya sighed. “I work in the labs sometimes.”

“Do you want some pointers from some Section Two agents?” 

Napoleon was about to stop the budding incident when he felt Sam Loa’s hand clamp down on his shoulder. Napoleon looked at Sam and smiling Sam shook his head “No”.

“Are you in Section Two?” Illya asked in a somewhat timid voice.

“Yes, we are. All of us. I’m Eric Richfeld. Agent Richfeld to you.”

Illya walked over to Richfeld and looked up at him, his blue eyes challenging. “Why ever would I want pointers from you?” 

Richfeld stepped closer to Illya trying to intimidate him. One of the other recruits spoke up. “Come on Eric, stop being an ass. Leave the little guy alone.”

Illya grinned, “Yes, Eric. Leave the little guy alone. Now go away and play with your little friends.”

Richfeld’s face turned red and he tried to push Illya. With a sudden movement Illya had Richfeld on his face on the floor. Illya had his foot in the middle of his back and his arm pulled up between his shoulder blades.

Napoleon and Sam laughed. “Agent Richfeld” had no idea what hit him. The four remaining recruits stood silent and open mouthed.

Samuel Loa walked out and patted Illya on his back, “Good move, Agent Kuryakin.” The four standing recruits faces turned pale.

Illya released the embarrassed recruit and went back to the punching bag and continued his workout ignoring the stunned men. Sam helped Richfeld up and then turned to all five recruits. “Listen up and learn gentlemen. Next time you want to tempt fate know who you are picking on. You might live longer.”

Napoleon nodded to his partner and turned to the recruits. “I’m Napoleon Solo, Number One, Section Two, the CEA and that makes me your boss. I want to see all of you in my office in exactly thirty minutes.”

The five recruits silently headed toward the showers. Napoleon turned to Illya, “Hey little guy, thanks for bringing Richfeld down a few notches.”

Illya scowled, “I detest bullies.”

“We can only hope he learns his lesson, if not I’ll either put him in Section Three or let him go.”


	2. The New Guys - Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts Roar, Unique and Red

Illya paused at the corner as the door to Napoleon and his office opened. He watched as the five recruits he had met in the gym left, heading in the opposite direction toward the elevator. Eric Richfeld looked angry. He was scowling and his face was red. The other four men looked a bit pale and frightened. After they entered the elevator Illya left his position and entered the office.

Napoleon looked up as the door swished open and his partner entered. “Hey, our new guys just left.”

“Yes, I saw. Richfeld looked a bit angry.”

Napoleon laughed, “Yes, I’m afraid he’s not too happy.”

“Is he still Section Two?”

“I was going to send him to Section Three, but since he had such a good record from Survival School, and a recommendation from Cutter, I gave him one more chance.” Napoleon gestured to files on his desk. “The guy who stood up to Richfeld, Brian Porter has potential. He doesn’t have as good a record as Richfeld but has a good attitude and personality. The other three are average. I read the riot act to all of them as they didn’t do more to stop their friend.”

Illya nodded. “However you strongly chastised Richfeld?”

“Yes. I had an acquaintance who worked for the police call someone like that badge heavy.”

“Ah, not a unique situation.” Illya nodded, “In the Navy we would occasionally have an officer who let his rank go to his head and think that he was better than everyone else. They would soon be taught the error of their ways.”

“I can only imagine.” 

Illya’s grin was cold, “I doubt that you could, my friend.”

Napoleon wasn’t sure he wanted to know about the unofficial justice handed out on a Soviet submarine.

Later that afternoon….

Illya looked up from the report he was writing. Napoleon was dutifully working on his own report. Illya tidied up his desk and stood. “I’ve got to go down to the lab and clean up my desk there. Would you like to join me for a drink at O’Malley’s later? My treat.”

“Oh, I certainly can’t turn down an offer like that!” 

Illya grinned as he walked out the door. “I’ll be back at quitting time and we can split a cab.”

“See you later partner.”

Illya walked down the hall to the stairwell. He preferred using the stairs when he could. As he entered the stairwell he noticed that some of the lights were out. He’d have to notify maintenance about that. As he ran down the stairs he was thinking about his lab office and the tasks he had to complete prior to quitting. As he rounded a turn in the stairs he felt a door open behind him. As he turned a cloth bag was pulled over his head. He struggled to hit his attacker but there must have been some chemical on the cloth. He gasped as he became disoriented, he could hear the roar of his own blood in his ears as he lost consciousness and fell.


	3. The New Guys - Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts - Lecture, Thaw, Blue

Eric Richfeld entered the stairwell to make his way down to the gym. After the horrible lecture he had to endure from Napoleon Solo he hadn’t wanted to show his face anywhere at Headquarters. As he continued down the sitars he stumbled over an object in the dark. He bent down and discovered it was a body, a bag over their head. He quickly pulled the bag off and gasped as he noted the blond hair and gray face of Illya Kuryakin. 

Richfeld opened his communicator and called in the emergency. “Agent down, stairwell three, level four. Medical team STAT!”

Illya wasn’t breathing, Eric turned him on his back and began rescue breathing and chest compression. He could feel a tingling on his lips as he breathed into the Russian agent’s lax mouth. A loud noise alerted him to the arrival of others and the medical team. Eric continued his first aid. 

“What the hell happened?” Eric heard Napoleon’s voice yell right behind him. The medical team pushed him away and clamped an oxygen mask on Illya’s face as they manhandled him onto a gurney and started rapidly up the stairs.

Eric sat his back to the wall, his lips burning. He looked up at Solo standing over him. “I found him here, he wasn’t breathing and he had this,” holding the bag up for Napoleon to see, “over his head.”

Napoleon grabbed the bag and turned it for Eric to see. Stenciled near the top was the name Eric Richfeld. “Care to explain this?”

Eric shook his head, “It’s mine. I use it to carry my dirty gym clothes home to wash. I don’t know how it got here.”

Napoleon sniffed the bag. “It’s got some sort of chemical on it.”

“I know my lips are burning from the rescue breathing.”

“We’d better get you to medical and your gym bag to the labs so they can discover what’s on it.”

“I’m not arrested?”

“You were trying to save Illya. If you had ulterior motives you wouldn’t have called for medical, or tried to help. But as far as anyone else is concerned you are arrested. I want to find out who did this, and quick.”

**************************

Napoleon waited outside the room where medical was working on his partner. He had left Richfeld in another room and sent Mark Slate down to the labs with the gym bag. He had let it be known that Richfeld was under suspicion of attacking Illya and confined in medical.

Doctor Taylor opened the door and motioned Napoleon inside. Napoleon felt his anger rise as he saw his partner. Illya was breathing but was still on oxygen. His face was pale and had red burn marks on it from the chemical, which had turned out to be a caustic cleaner used in the gym. He also had bruises on his neck. Blue and purple hand prints where someone had tried to strangle him. Dr. Taylor frowned, “it’s good he was found when he was, the cleaner could have gotten into his lungs and burned them more than it did. That could have ended his career with Section Two.”

“Will he be alright?”

“I’m sure Agent Kuryakin will be demanding to leave within a couple of days. In the meantime we are keeping him sedated in order to not put any strain on his lungs.”

****************************

Napoleon made his report to Mr. Waverly. 

“Someone attacked Illya, putting a chemical soaked gym bag over his head and then tried to strangle him. If agent Richfeld hadn't literally stumbled over him he might have died or at the very least had his lungs damaged to the point he couldn’t be an active agent.”

Mr. Waverly gestured with his pipe. “The bag belonged to agent Richfeld, one of the new recruits?”

“Yes sir, he and Illya had a run in at the gym and I read him and his friends the riot act for their behavior.”

“Yet you don’t think Mr. Richfeld was responsible?”

“No I don’t. I gave him another chance to straighten out. He was so hot under the collar I suspect he could thaw an iceberg. To be honest though I think he was mad at himself, not me or Illya. He let his ego get the best of him and was ashamed.”

“Who do you think was the culprit then?” 

“I don’t know sir, but I intend to find out.”


	4. The New Guys - Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts - Sleeve, Penny, Silver

Illya slowly became aware of his surroundings through the muzzy fog of sedation. He could hear the quiet murmur of talking and the squeak of rubber soled shoes. “Medical” his brain concluded. He could sense an oxygen mask on his face and he could feel a chemical burn in his chest. He remembered the attack in the stairwell. Illya tried to open his eyes but they didn’t seem to get the message and remained stubbornly closed. 

He tried to raise his hand to the call button that he knew would be attached to the sleeve of his hospital gown but his body just didn’t want to respond to any command his sluggish brain issued. He wanted to go home. Where was Napoleon? He drifted back into sleep.

The next time Illya became aware of his surroundings he knew he wasn’t alone. Still muzzy, sedated and unable to open his eyes he could hear breathing. Napoleon? His mind asked.

“I’m sorry Agent Kuryakin.”

Not Napoleon. His heart rate increased.

“I let my ego get the upper hand. Everyone was egging me on.”

The voice was familiar. He tried to relax.

“I almost ruined my career before it even got started. I’d give every penny I earn between now and when I retired to be able to start over.”

Ah, Illya thought, the new guy. Richfeld?

“I wish you could hear me. I really am sorry for what I did. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know.”

Illya could hear footsteps retreat and a door softly close. He drifted off into sleep.

The next time Illya became aware he was able to open one eye. He silently rejoiced in this improvement. His room was dark except for a low light behind his bed. The muzzy feeling of the drugs in his system seemed to be less prevalent. He turned his head to the right where he knew a recliner was situated expecting to see his partner there. It was empty. Illya sighed, confused that he hadn’t seen his friend at any time. Where was he?

He heard the door softly open and he tried to focus on the dark shape that slipped into his room. Was it Napoleon or a nurse? The figure rushed toward him and Illya could see a flash of silver as the dim light reflected off a raised knife. He tried to twist away from the knife but his body decided not to respond. The report of several shots seemed to echo in the room as the dark figure landed heavily on top of him. The weight of the body caused him to gasp out what little breath he had. He lost consciousness. 

***************************************

Napoleon Solo and Eric Richfeld sat across from Mr. Waverly. “Your report gentlemen?”

Napoleon cleared his throat and started to speak. “I had Mr. Richfeld stand guard in the room next to Illya’s, and I was in the room on the other side. I felt that whoever had tried to kill Illya would make another attempt. I was right. We both saw a figure enter Agent Kuryakin’s room and attempt to stab him. Unfortunately we both entered and shot the figure at the same time. It was Brian Porter. He was killed instantly.”

Mr. Waverly scowled, “So we have no idea why he attempted to kill Mr. Kuryakin?”

“Actually we think we do.” Napoleon answered. “It seems that Porter was not his real last name. It was Kursov, Porter was his mother’s name.”

Eric Richfeld read from a file, “According to Mrs. Porter, Jacob Kursov, her late husband, had been a prisoner of the Chinese during Korea. When he returned home he suffered from battle fatigue and was understandably very anti communist. He became very mentally and physically abusive to her, Brian, and his older brother. Brian and his older brother despite being abused idolized their father. Brian’s older brother died in Vietnam at the hands of the North Vietnamese. His father, committed suicide. Brian took his mother’s last name, ashamed to be of Russian descent.”

Napoleon continued. “We suspect that because Jules Cutter always encouraged the recruits to best Illya’s records as Survival School that perhaps Brian Porter felt he needed to kill his perceived enemy. Illya was everything he and his father hated, Russian and a communist. At least that’s what the psychologists in medical believe.”

Waverly nodded, “But we will never know for certain.”

“No sir. But it’s over.”

“What is the latest on Mr. Kuryakin?”

Napoleon sighed, “The doctors say he’ll be in medical for at least a week or so. I assume he’ll be on light duty for a while before he can return to active duty.”

“Very good gentlemen. I think that until Mr. Kuryakin returns to duty that perhaps Mr. Richfeld should fill in for him as your partner.”

Eric Richfeld looked at the two older men with surprise. “But I’m just out of training!”

Napoleon smiled, “Consider it on the job training until Illya comes back.”

“Yes Sir!”

“That will be all gentlemen.” As the two agents walked out of his office Alexander Waverly picked up a report from medical. Grim faced he read the report once more.

***************************

Seventeen years later….

Chief Enforcement Agent Richfeld put the last personal item in the box he was packing. He never expected to make it to retirement age. He had decided to leave UNCLE rather than move into administration. Field work was just too hard to give up.

He looked up as the door to his office opened. Illya Kuryakin, head of Section Eight entered. He was still youthful looking, though he had finally packed on a few pounds. His white blond hair was now a darker shade of honey. He looked at Eric and smiled. “I’ve come to escort you to your retirement party.” His voice was rough and husky. Illya had never recovered from the chemical burns to his lungs and had never returned to being an active agent. “Here, I have something for you.” Illya handed Eric a small wrapped package.

Eric tore the wrapping paper off. Inside was a picture frame, in the center was mounted a penny, written under it were the words “Thank you, IK.”

Eric looked at Illya confused. “I don’t get it.”

“You said you would give every penny you earned between then and your retirement date to do it over.”

“You heard me?”

“Yes. I wanted to thank you for being Napoleon’s partner for all the years I couldn’t be. I wanted to thank you for always bringing him back. You have no idea how much that meant and means to me.”

“My pleasure Illya.”

“We’re even. However we’d better get to the commissary. Napoleon is hosting your party and we both know how much Number One loves to party.”

Eric laughed, put his arm around the older man’s shoulders. The two friends left the office. The door shut behind them.


	5. Poison - Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts - Glass, Flow, Yellow

Napoleon Solo and his partner Illya Kuryakin entered the Del Floria entrance to UNCLE headquarters. Both agents were battered, bruised and dirty. Napoleon was once again lamenting the destruction of his Italian suit. “Why is it always my suit that gets destroyed? I honestly think THRUSH has it out for me!”

Illya rolled his eyes, “Yes Napoleon. I’m sure it’s now a THRUSH directive that they ruin your wardrobe as a scheme to bankrupt UNCLE.”

“You never know partner, that could be it.” Napoleon laughed. He smiled at the receptionist as she pinned his number eleven badge on his torn and dirty lapel. The lovely brunette handed Illya his number two badge. Napoleon turned and headed toward the elevator, “We probably have time to shower and change before we make our report to the Old Man.”

Napoleon didn’t notice lllya stagger and catch himself against the wall as he followed him into the elevator.

*******************

Alexander Waverly studied his two agents as they sat and delivered their verbal report on their recent encounter with THRUSH. Both men were obviously not one hundred percent. Solo had several visible bruises and seemed to be favoring his left shoulder and arm. Kuryakin was paler than usual and seemed slightly distracted. 

Napoleon was finishing up his report. “We decided to split up in order to search the lab faster. We wanted to finish before the laboratory staff arrived for their morning shift. I found evidence that THRUSH had decided to relocate to another location next week.”

Napoleon stopped and looked at Illya. Mr. Waverly cleared his throat. “Mr. Kuryakin? Your report?”

Illya started, embarrassed he said “Oh, sorry sir. As Mr. Solo indicated we split up. I headed to the lower level of the building the most likely area for the actual research laboratory to be located. I found the lab. I interrupted two THRUSH scientists and was able to neutralize them. I was unable to find any paperwork on what they were trying to manufacture, placed the charges and retreated to the upper levels. By the time I arrived Mr. Solo had been discovered by security.”

Napoleon finished, “Mr. Kuryakin and I managed to get out with little damage and the lab was destroyed by the charges.”

Waverly frowned, “What you are saying then is one site destroyed but no retrieval of any useful information?”

Napoleon looked down at his hands, “Ummm, Yes Sir. I’m afraid so.”

“Not one of your better affairs, gentlemen. I expect a more detailed written report on my desk tomorrow.”

“Yes Sir.” Napoleon and Illya rose and left the office. They were silent as they walked back to their office in Section Two. They entered and sat at their desks. Napoleon leaned back in his chair and looked at his partner. “Are you alright IK?” 

“I’m fine...a bit of a headache.”

“We might as well get a start on the written report.” Napoleon sighed.

Illya jumped up and headed toward the door, “I’m going to go to the commissary. Perhaps I need something to eat. I’ll be right back.” He practically ran out leaving his partner staring at the closing door with concern.

*************************

In a deserted UNCLE lab Illya Kuryakin drew a syringe of blood from his arm. He let the blood flow onto the glass microscope slide. Bending his head over the eyepiece of the scope stared for a long moment. Taking a dropper of fluid from a bottle he put a drop on the slide. The blood turned yellow. Illya sat back frowning. He looked again but nothing had changed.

Taking the slide he threw it into the trash and cleaned his workspace. Taking off his lab coat he pulled on his black suit coat and left. He entered the elevator and rode it to the main floor where he turned in his badge to the receptionist and left UNCLE headquarters.


	6. Poison - Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts - Drain, Match, Brown

Napoleon looked up from the report he was working on. Frowning he looked at his watch. It had been an hour since Illya had rushed out of the office. Even if he had ordered a full meal at the commissary he should have been back by now. He picked up his phone and called a number. “Hello, Jenna my dear. Could you tell me where Illya is in the building?”

“When did he leave? I see.”

Napoleon called the receptionist at the agent’s entrance. “Did Illya say where he was going when he left?”

Napoleon was about to call his errant partner on the communicator when it warbled. “Solo.”

“Mr. Solo this is Reg Peterson, Section Three. I’m in charge of the cleanup crew at the satrap that you and your partner blew this morning.”

Napoleon knew Peterson. He had an outstanding reputation in Section Three. “Yes Reg. What can I do for you?”

“Well, it’s your partner. Agent Kuryakin showed up here and demanded to be let into the site. He was acting sort of aggressive about it and I told him I had to call to get permission from you. He just cursed and went off into the woods.”

“Did he say why he needed to get in?”

“No, just that it wasn’t any of my business.”

“I’ll be right there. If you see him keep him there”

“I’ll try. But you know your partner. I can’t guarantee anything.” 

Napoleon rushed out of his office. Passing Mark Slate in the hall he told the young Brit to get his partner April Dancer and meet him in the parking garage. 

******************************

Illya slid down a brush covered slope toward rear of the destroyed THRUSH lab site. Sliding to the bottom of the slope Illya waded through a brown, sludge filled slow moving stream of water. He would stop listen and sniff every few feet. “It has to be around here.” He muttered to himself. He sped up as he caught a chemical scent in the water. He could hear a faint low whistle of air. “I knew it!”

He almost passed a large mound of brush but turned back as he realized that it looked as if it had been purposely piled against the slope. Illya began to pull the brush away flinging it into the stream. He finally uncovered a large drain that headed into the slope. Illya rested against the side of the drain, shook his head and then retched onto the ground. 

He entered the drain and headed into the dark keeping one hand on the side of the drain. He told himself it was so he didn’t get lost but it was really to help him stay upright. He tried to keep the dizzy feelings from becoming overwhelming. He knew he had to stay focused and on his feet.

He felt a straight seam in the side of the drain. Taking a book of matches out of his pocket he struck a match. Illya could see a sealed door in it’s flickering light. As the match sputtered out he felt the door slide open. He tried to back up into the darkness but stopped. He blinked as he saw one of the two THRUSH scientists that he had killed prior to setting his explosives. The scientist aimed a spray bottle at Illya and squeezed. A foul smelling chemical hit him in his face. Gasping Illya dropped to the ground.

The scientist waved and two THRUSH came forward and grabbed Illya by his legs and pulled him through the door which silently closed behind them.

********************************

Illya opened his eyes and squinted in the bright light. He tried to sit up only to discover that he was strapped to a metal table. He looked around and realized that he was in the undamaged laboratory that he thought he had blown up earlier that day.

“Welcome back Mr. Kuryakin.” It was the scientist he had killed earlier in the day.

“I shot you, didn’t I? I destroyed this lab.”

“As you can see, you didn’t.”

Illya coughed and looked around confused.

“We captured you and knocked you out with the gas we just used on you in the drain.”

“I remember shooting you, and setting the charges.”

“You mean these charges?” The man laughed as he pointed to a pile of UNCLE explosives stacked on a nearby table.

“I knew our site had been breached. We pulled as many people as we could down to the lab level. We have the ability to seal the lab off from the rest of the satrap. We also had self destruct charges already set. So we injected you with one of our new discoveries, a mild poison that leaves you very open to suggestion, confused, unable to focus and quite ill. We told you that you had set your charges, killed everyone and sent you on your way. Then we sealed the lab, and set the self destruct.”

“THRUSH labs usually have a back entrance.” Illya croaked.

“Indeed we do.” The scientist smiled. “Very clever of you to find it.”

Illya turned his head to the side and retched again. 

“We intend to introduce our poison into the water system of UNCLE headquarters. Once everyone is sick THRUSH will be able to just walk in and take over. You were a perfect test subject.”

“So glad I could be of help.”


	7. Poison - Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts - Permission, Superior, Red

Reg Peterson waved as Napoleon Solo, Mark Slate and April Dancer walked up to where he was directing his Section Three team in the cleanup of the destroyed THRUSH satrap. He was standing several yards away from the smoking pile of rubble that had been the laboratory. His men wearing protective gear were slowly sifting through the debris looking for any object that could be of interest.

“Hey Reg!” Napoleon called.

“Napoleon, Mark, hello Miss Dancer.” Reg smiled and blushed as he spoke to the young auburn haired agent.

“Reg.” April smiled at him. Obviously another UNCLE agent with a crush.

Napoleon looked around the area. “So, any sighting of my errant partner?”

“No Sir, he headed that way.” Reg pointed to the heavily wooded area to the south of the rubble. “We haven’t seen him since he left.”

“Alright. Mark you and I are going to try to follow his trail. April you stay here and contact us if Rasputin shows up.”

Mark and Napoleon headed off into the woods while Reg smiled at April and stepped a few inches closer.

********************************

Illya tried to slide his arms out of the restraints that kept him secured on the lab table. The THRUSH scientist walked over to him and held out a small canister for him to see.

“Mr. Kuryakin, this is the poison that you have been exposed to. I want you to take this and release it in UNCLE headquarters. Do you understand?”

Illya laughed. “I think not.”

The scientist grinned and tucked the canister into Illya’s jacket pocket. He took a syringe and injected it into Illya’s neck. “You will take the canister and release it in UNCLE headquarters. When the contents is released the canister has an automatic sensor that will notify me that it has been activated. Once we receive the activation signal we will start our attack.”

Illya felt himself becoming dizzy, the drug they had injected burning through his veins. The scientist again repeated, “I am your superior, you will release the canister in UNCLE headquarters.”

Illya stared at the table of UNCLE explosives and muttered to himself in Russian until he passed out.

**********************************

Mark pointed to footprints that let down a slope toward a muddy stream. “Napoleon, do you think these are Illya’s?”

“Could be, I’d say let’s follow them.” As the two men slid down the slope Napoleon decided that if they did find his partner he’d have to seriously get back at him for ruining a good pair of shoes in the mud. Mark grinned as he noticed his bosses grimace at the wet mud.

**********************************

Illya was released from the table and two THRUSH guards held him upright. He staggered and grabbed at his shirt, pulling two explosive buttons off. The guards didn’t seem to notice.

“Take our UNCLE friend out the tunnel exit and turn him lose. Then all we have to do is notify headquarters as soon as he releases the poison.”

As the two guards started to walk Illya towards the exit he collapsed and fell towards the table with the UNCLE explosives. Illya quickly pressed the two buttons into the pile and let himself be carried out of the lab into the emergency tunnel exit. Illya was softly counting in Russian. He suddenly straightened up and pushed the guards off and started to run towards the mouth of the tunnel.

********************************

Napoleon and Mark both saw the drainage tunnel at the same time. As they started to hurry towards it they felt a rumble beneath their feet then heard a blast. They turned their heads away at a flash of red light from the tunnel. 

“Bloody hell!” Mark looked at Napoleon. “What was that?”

“If I know my partner, it was him. Let’s go see if we can find him.” As they started toward the tunnel they paused as a muddy, filthy figure crawled out of the tunnel and collapsed into the muddy sludge.

“Illya?” Napoleon rushed forward and grabbed his unconscious partner. Illya seemed uninjured. “What have you gotten yourself into?”

Illya opened his eyes and grinned. “Lab still there. Gone now. Release headquarters.” He passed out.

“Damn, next time you decide to do something on your own you are going to need written permission my friend.”


	8. Poison - Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts - Rare, Champion, Purple

Napoleon was concerned about his partner. Illya had spent the last two days in medical fluctuating between unconsciousness, nausea, confusion, manic and then seemingly normal behavior. The doctors now knew he had been dosed with a new THRUSH drug but had no idea what it was or what it was suppose to do to the victim. With the lab now destroyed UNCLE had no options for finding any information.

Illya was currently acting his normal self. “When can I go home? Really Napoleon, it is pointless to keep me here when I’m perfectly fine.” 

“Sorry Illya, but the doctors are not ready to release you.”

Illya sighed. “I’ve got to get back to work. This is ridiculous.”

“Why do you have to get back to work?”

Illya stared at the cupboard where the clothing he had been wearing when admitted was placed. “I have to. I have things I have to complete.”

Napoleon noticed his focus on the cupboard and casually walked toward it. 

Illya called out, “Napoleon, can you get me a drink of water? Now!” The Russian’s voice had a note of panic in it.

Napoleon poured his friend a cup of water and handed it to him. Illya seemed to calm down. His eyes became unfocused as he slipped into unconsciousness.

******************************

Alexander Waverly did not like mysteries and the condition and behavior of his Soviet agent was just that. “Very well Gentlemen, your report.”

Napoleon glanced over to the seat that would normally hold his partner and nodded to the UNCLE chief medical officer. The doctor cleared his throat and began his report. “It is obvious that Agent Kuryakin has been dosed with a new THRUSH drug. Perhaps more than once. He has large gaps in his memory, nausea, confusion, dizziness to name a few symptoms. He also seems paranoid and varies between manic and normal behavior. He also seems to become unconscious at random times.”

“What would be the purpose of such a drug?” Wavery asked.

“I honestly can’t imagine, unless it’s just to incapacitate the victim.” 

Napoleon added, “Illya seemed to be unusually compliant which could be the purpose. But perhaps their drug didn’t work quite how they wanted it to.”

Waverly grimaced, “Fortunately for us it’s the rare THRUSH scheme that works perfectly.”

The doctor’s pager suddenly buzzed. “Sir, there’s a problem in Mr. Kuryakin’s room.”

The doctor and Napoleon ran from the room.

******************************

There were orderlies and nurses gathered around the door to Illya’s room. When Napoleon and the doctor arrived an orderly cleared space for them. “Agent Kuryakin grabbed a nurse and barricaded his room. He is threatening to kill her if we try to enter.”

Napoleon went to the door and pushed it open a few inches. “Stay out or I’ll kill the nurse” Illya yelled. “Go away!”

“Come on partner, you know you don’t want to do that. Let her go and I’ll take her place ok?” He stepped into the room. His partner was behind his bed, he had the poor terrified nurse tied up with IV hose. He was holding a broken glass to her throat. Tears streamed down her face.

“It’s alright Sarah, Illya won’t hurt you. Will you IK?”

Illya held a small canister in his left hand. “I have to release this.” 

“Ok, let Sarah go and I’ll help you.”

Illya looked confused. “You will?”

“Sure buddy, I’m your partner right? We help each other. Just let Sarah go.”   
,  
Illya dropped his hand holding the glass and Napoleon reached out to the frightened woman and led her away from his partner. “Go on.” She stumbled out the door to safety. “Ok partner, what do you have there?”

Illya looked at the canister. “I have to release this. They told me.” 

Napoleon held his hand out, “Can I see it?” Illya reached out to hand the canister to him. Napoleon grabbed Illya’s wrist and pulled him off balance, hitting him in the jaw. Illya dropped to the floor.

“It’s all clear!” The orderlies and doctor rushed in.

****************************

Two days later the champion scientists from Section Eight had analyzed the gas in the canister. The attack planned by the THRUSH lab never happened. UNCLE was safe.

Section Eight determined that repeated doses were required to maintain the symptoms. Illya was back to normal a week later. He was embarrassed that he had been so susceptible to the THRUSH poison. He was wondering how he came to have such a large purple bruise on his jaw and why nurse Sarah was so distant.


	9. Not Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts - Warning, Snuggle, Blue

My name is Jill McGee and I work in the secretarial pool for UNCLE, the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement. It’s a great job. Pay is good, hours decent, insurance and lots of extra benefits. 

I had originally gone to work for the New York Police Department as a dispatcher. Being a recent graduate of Catholic School being thrown into a work environment with the city’s finest was a huge dose of culture shock. I could imagine Sister Mary’s scowl every time some uniform flirted with me, every time I heard a swear word or was exposed to anything that wasn’t pure and genteel. 

I eventually quit. I had quite the reputation as a goody two shoes. Me and the NYPD just didn’t see eye to eye on what was considered proper behavior. 

My friend from school Irene Bertolli suggested I apply where she worked. That’s how I found UNCLE; and have been employed for the past two years. Now I know what you’re thinking. Isn’t working for an international spy organization worse than the NYPD. One would think that; but it’s not really. 

Irene, who was a year ahead of me in school gave me fair warning before I accepted the job. She told me if you don’t want attention from a guy, just tell them so. They will respect your wishes. However, if you DO want attention let them know and then stand back because you will be overwhelmed with male attention. Irene goes on dates almost every night. Me, I’m still “Miss Goody Two Shoes”. My co-workers laugh at me and tell me I’m missing out; but I have to do what I feel is right.

I’ve never been tempted. I do have to admit that there are a few men here who could probably tempt even Sister Mary. One, the head of Section Two, looks just like a matinee movie idol, cleft chin and all. He has deep brown eyes that you could just get lost in. His suits look like they cost more than I make in a month. His smile could melt even the most guarded heart. I swear all the gals here get all gooey eyed and act like teenagers whenever he walks into the office. Not me.

Then of course there’s his partner the Russian. He treats everyone with a polite indifference that drives the girls crazy. You should hear their comments. “Oh, his hair is like sunshine that’s been spun into silk. His eyes are blue like the summer sky or Siberian ice. I just want to nibble on that bottom lip!” I think every one of them fantasize about grabbing him for a nice passionate snuggle. Not me, not really.

Honestly, I just do my job; take my paycheck home at the end of the week; go to church on Sunday and live a good life. I have my priorities. No meaningless dates for me. I’m waiting for the right guy to come along; then we’ll settle down and I’ll have my family, two boys and a girl. Sister Mary would be proud.

Irene just told me that Napoleon and Illya were just brought in to Medical again and it’s bad. I’ll go to church on the way home and light a candle for them.


	10. Tap, tap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts - Poem, Fool, Yellow

It was that time again. Once a year Number One and Two of Section Two had to review all the section reports; sign off on them once again; showing that they had been given a final review prior to sending them to be archived in records.

The silence in Napoleon and Illya’s office was palpable. Each agent had a stack of report files that they were slowly working through. Illya pushed his black reading glasses up from where they had slid down. He glanced across his desk toward his partner. Napoleon had a file open in front of him and was frowning at a pad of paper. He was scribbling furiously with a pencil, occasionally biting the end of it then tapping it on his desk as he glanced upward in thought.

“Problems with the report?” Illya asked.

“Hmmmmm” 

Illya went back to his reading. Finishing his file he closed it and placed it to the side on his finished stack. Taking another file he opened it and continued his task.

Tap, tap, tap. Sigh.

Illya looked up and realized that Napoleon’s finished stack was woefully small.

“Are you even working?”

“Of course.” Napoleon lifted his writing pad, flipped to the last page of the report, signed it and slapped it down on his finished stack. Grabbing another he opened it to a random page and set his writing pad down. His attention was back on his scribbling. Sighing he ripped the page off; wadding it into a ball he tossed it into the trash. 

Illya frowned. “You didn’t even read that before you approved it!”

“If it was correct when we signed it the first time it’s correct now!”

“That may be true; but you know how often we discover information that is pertinent today that wasn’t originally!” Illya exclaimed. “Just what are you doing?”

“Working.”

“On what?”

There was no reply. Illya shrugged. If his partner was going to shirk his duties fine, he wasn’t going to. He grabbed another file and continued to read.

Tap, tap, tap. Sigh.

Illya ignored the noise.

Napoleon sighed again. “Do you like poetry?”

“Of course. Poetry, like music and dance is a big part of the Russian soul.”

“Hmmmmm. What rhymes with yellow?”

“Why?”

“You know Missy Reynolds? The new translator in communications?”

“I’ve seen her. What does she have to do with poetry and yellow?”

“She mentioned that she loved poetry so I’m writing her a poem.”

Illya shook his head in exasperation. “Can you not write your masterpiece after you finish your work?”

“Yellow?”

“Fellow, mellow.”

“Thanks, but that won’t work.”

Illya growled and continued to read.

“Fool?”

“What?”

“What rhymes with fool?”

“Drool.”

“You aren’t helping much partner.”

“Now you get it. Just buy her flowers.”

Tap, tap, sigh.


End file.
